Chosen
by Random1
Summary: Cross over with Lord of the Rings. A short drabble from the POV of each of the Endless on their chosen Lord of the Rings character


A/N:  
For those of you that don't recognise the Endless, they are seven beings  
who are something like gods. They don't rule the universe, but they do  
represent it.  
Destiny, Death, Destruction, Dream, Desire, Despair, Delirium. This might  
make more sense if you know who they are.  
This fic is very much unbeta-ed and I apologise for any errors.  
Constructive criticism always welcome.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DESTINY  
You do not choose your path. You walk it. You walk it to the weary end. It  
leads from your door to your destiny. You cannot turn back. You do not  
choose your path. For you, all paths lead to one doom.  
You were chosen. Some might say chosen by Destiny. But I did not choose  
you. I do not choose the path you walk, as I do not choose my own. I am  
chained to my path as you are to yours. I am chained to my burden, as you  
are to yours. I cannot turn the pages, yet. I cannot change the words that  
are written. The road goes ever on and on, and we must walk it to the  
weary end together, you and I. You are a part of the great tale and it is  
still ongoing, and it will not end when your part in it is done.  
Even I do not know what is written on the last page of the book.  
Destiny is strong in you. You are of my realm. In your quiet home, in your  
peaceful life, you might not have believed it, but already it would have  
been true. The road was on your doorstep, it was laid out before you even  
then.  
Every step you take leads you towards your doom.  
Destiny's path is a maze. It twists, it turns, it doubles back upon itself.  
But you cannot walk the same path twice. You cannot turn back.  
Your burden is heavy and the way is long. Make your choices with care. I  
cannot change the words that are written. All roads lead you to your doom.  
Your destiny lies before you.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DEATH  
Your fire burned too bright, too fast. My sibling might have claimed you,  
but the fire burned too fierce. You saved yourself from her, but there was  
nothing left to keep you from me.  
You are beautiful now. Peaceful, kinda. Yes, he weeps for you. He forgave  
you, don't you remember? My captain my king and all that. Yes, you redeemed  
yourself. The horn is broken. You killed many.  
Will they be safe? It's not for me to say, but seeing as you're out for the  
count as it were, I suppose I could give you a hint.  
Look, they'll be fine. Just don't tell anyone I told you.  
There, your brother stands by the river. You can see him, but you shouldn't  
speak. He can see you like this, you know. He's a sharp one, that one. Good  
man. He loves you. He's calling for you, but we mustn't stop. I'm sorry,  
kiddo. I'd let you if I could, but I have to do my job.  
Yes the armies are massing. Yes, Minas Tirith looks kinda small all of a  
sudden, doesn't it? Don't fret for your city, kiddo. She'll do fine without  
you. Faramir'll take care of her. Denethor'll be joining us soon, you see.  
Wasn't supposed to tell you that either, but in for a penny, as they say.  
That? It's called an umbrella. It's for keeping the rain off. Don't weep  
for your tower, sweetcakes. She'll stand. But don't tell anyone I told you  
so.  
What happens now? It's not for me to say. If you're ready? Take my hand.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DESTRUCTION  
I turn my back on you. Your dark towers, your massed armies, your malice  
and your fear - I disown them. You are nothing to me. You do my job for me,  
and I will not say I am glad, though I am well rid of it.  
What is destroyed can often be rebuilt. But what is corrupt and evil must  
be destroyed.  
You walk in my realm, but I will not claim you as mine.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DREAM  
Stories and tales fall under my domain, and as Hero of this tale, you are  
mine, little dream. I choose you. You will live out the dreams of your  
ancestors, you will make real the dreams of your men, and they will follow  
you as gladly as they follow their heart's desire. All men wish to follow a  
dream. You are perfect. Soldier, healer, counsellor, friend. Yes, they  
will follow you gladly, little dream, and love you for it. And you will be  
the king returned and the dream restored. You dream of the White Tower,  
safe and splendid and full of laughter and hope. And it is a good dream, a  
wise dream, a true dream.  
Ah, little dream, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Telcontar, Estel. I  
also know what it is to bear many names and walk under many guises, and to  
love, and to cause pain. I choose you.  
They say the dreams of men crumble into dust. And yet you must dream still,  
or perish.  
So sleep sound and dream deep. In the realm of dreams, you are under my  
protection and no harm will befall you. Sleep, now.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DESIRE  
The man of Gondor I wanted first for my own, but my sister claimed him  
before I could make him mine. But you are cold and hard as a frozen lily,  
all made up of want and need. I will make you mine.  
I know what it is you desire. A passionate man, a loving man. Noble and  
kind and kingly. He turns his back, but you will be faithful. Ride after  
him, sweetheart, though he does not love you. Your heart desires it.  
For you also wish for the freedom of the race and the thrill of the attack.  
This you desire too, an end to the waiting, an end to the cage. An outlet  
for madness and rage and frustration. This you desire. The right to let go  
and be free. The right to hurt as you have been hurt.  
And you wish for renown, for brave deeds well done. It is a noble desire,  
child. It makes me smile.  
So. Follow your heart's desire. Ride after your king. Glory in the chase  
and fight the battle as best you may. And perhaps there you will find what  
it is that you truly desire, little girl, little warrior maiden, little  
horsemen's brat.  
Perhaps my sister will be waiting for you, also.  
We shall see.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DESPAIR  
Pride and despair are your sins. My hook is so deeply embedded in your  
heart that there is no room for love or honour or any other thing that is  
noble and good. Look in the mirror, Steward of Gondor. What stares back at  
you?  
You are mine. You have always been mine.  
I take no joy at this.  
Twist the hook in your heart. Your sons love you not. Your city will fall.  
The king will unseat you and throw you from your office. This you know not  
because of your foresight, but because I tell you so. I whisper it to you  
in the dead of night. You do not even know I am with you, but I stand  
behind your left-hand shoulder when you take counsel, and when you look in  
the mirror, I am what stares back.  
The palantir is a mirror of the soul.  
My sister is watching you. You will burn. As your son burned with honour,  
you will burn with despair. You could set a fire in your flesh that burned  
as fierce as the fire in your heart, and soon, all would be over.  
I would take no joy in this.  
Once you desired power. Desire is the mismatched twin of despair.  
I twist my hook. My sisters watch you. Delirium and death, they will both  
take you, but I will see this through to the very end.  
I take no joy in this.  
Pride and despair, old man. Pride and despair.  
You have always been mine.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
DELIRIUM  
Sometimes you want things so much that it hurts and hurts and hurts and  
hurts and it's hard to keep yourself together, and things start cracking  
around the edges, and strange music plays like violins or maybe bagpipes  
until you want to put your fingers in your ears and scream and scream and  
scream and scream. Or maybe it's not music. Maybe it's honey bees singing  
or water crying. Maybe it's a colour that no one's ever seen before, or the  
inside of a circle. Is that a noise? I don't remember. Is there a word for  
the noise that the inside of a circle makes when it's stuck inside your  
mind and you can't make it be quiet, no matter how hard you screw your eyes  
shut?  
Probably not.  
When you see it, the thing you want, you split in two and there are lights  
in the darkness, sometimes, and sometimes you feel all soft inside and  
sometimes so angry that you want to break things into tiny pieces even if  
they're good things like puppies and kittens and frogs.  
You want a fish. I had a fish once. I lost it.  
I had a doggy too. But I couldn't take that here.  
You follow your master like I follow my doggy. Sometimes it's good to  
follow but sometimes you just want to run and run and run and run and hide  
away close your eyes so no one can see you. Not listening, not listening!  
I've got my fingers in my ears.  
There's no one to not listen to, but that doesn't make a difference to me.  
It doesn't make a difference to you, either. We're neither of us listening  
to nothing. Sometimes when people say that they mean they're not listening  
to anything. But I'm careful with words. If you don't treat them right,  
they might bite. We're not listening to nothing. Nothing is screaming and  
screaming and screaming and it wants us to listen, but we won't. Will we,  
precious?  
You like to be called precious.  
I'll lie down in the darkness with you. I like your eyes. They're blue,  
both of them. Pretty. Like streamers. Or stars. Or fish. I lost my fish. So  
did you. It's been a long time since you had anyone to talk to that you  
could talk to like me. I understand you. Or you understand me. Or maybe we  
neither of us understand each other but we just think we do because we  
think that we know what people are like when really people are just  
strangers in the darkness.  
The other one, the hobbit with the shiny sword and sad eyes, he's coming  
closer to us now. He's not here yet, but soon we'll all be in the dark  
together. We'll laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and cry and cry.  
Because that's what you do in the dark.  
Maybe after we're all here together I'll be able to go home to my doggy.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Just in case you couldn't tell:  
Frodo was chosen by Destiny  
Boromir by Death  
Destruction turned his back on Sauron  
Aragorn was chosen by Dream  
Eowyn by Desire  
Denethor by Despair  
And Smeagol by Delirium 


End file.
